Curren$y #Jetsgo Lyrics

Weekend at Burnie's Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 #Jetsgo
  • 2 Still
  • 3 She Don't Want a Man
  • 4 One Life
  • 5 You See It
  • 6 Televised
  • 7 This Is the Life
  • 8 On G's
  • 9 Money Machine
  • 10 What's What
  • 11 JLC
  • 12 Get Paid
  • Yea, yea, yea
    Ain't nothing, to the next life
    Fool ain't nothing changed
    Roll something up mama
    We ****ed up
    Make sure of it

    Uh, never will it stop
    Crate motors with triple digit blocks
    You wanna race I'll leave you by a couple blocks
    Blow the doors off, break the motha****in' locks
    ***** you know my steez
    Spitta Andretti, pedal foot heavy, you know I Speed
    Minus the bus and Keanu Reeves
    Twistin them FernGully trees, ***** breathe
    Your man smokin good, I'm smoking great
    T-H-C, Tony the Tiger certified these flakes
    Murcielago green, just scored that Ferrari
    But I still got them Lamborghini dreams
    Confetti fall from the ceiling to the floor
    The Jets step through the door
    Issue them awards
    Your hoes hot for me type, tissue to their draws
    You mad upset, Me and your girl just up on the set
    Playin Black Ops, let her drive my Chevy-Box to the corner store
    Rockin Adidas flip-flops, and some J-Crew
    Argyle socks, now watch them speed bumps
    Love don't **** my rims up
    Maybe we'll stick with you, put you on the team official
    But Jet Misses never tell a Jet business
    That's how we do it big enough for us to live in it
    Them other fools playing wit it, blind rhyming saying they did it
    Shame on them *****s, you can come through the set
    But never bring em withcha

    Yea though, the Vet flow, Best smoke
    Collecting dough, adhering to the Jet Code
    And the Trill know the Jets cold, Jets dope
    Snatch your *****es, bring em everywhere you can't go

    Yea Doe pound sign #JetsGO
    *****, Yea Doe pound sign #JetsGO
    *****, Yea Doe pound sign #JetsGO
    Collecting dough, adhering to the Jet Code

    Now I just wanna **** mad *****es, for all the days I never
    On second thought, I always had em though
    But now they look better, and quicker to be down for whatever
    Like me, her and her homegirl together
    Changing the weather, by chop of the Cessna propellers
    We landed on the water, the game that I taught her
    Got her showing me the Louie that these duck *****s bought her
    Its a game to us, we just hang and ****
    While she swipe your credit cards on dispensary pot jars
    I'm laid up, calling the front desk, tell them to send the maid up
    While we play the terrace and blaze up
    These detailed lyrics is far to intricate to be made up
    Not pimping, what you gave her
    Was an inch, she took her foot and kicked you in the *** with it
    The famous story of Mike Tyson and Robbin Givens
    The biggest *****s get beat senseless by little women
    Look at Sam Rothstein, he gave his whole world to Ginger
    Even these bosses be slippin, I catch that
    Try to be more flawless wit it, calculated king of the city
    Christopher Walken wit it, I admire his Empire, as did Biggie
    Machine Gun Funk, out of the Bowls
    Bubba Kush & Hindu Skunk previously rolled
    You know the game chump, your chick chose
    Better luck next time Captain Save a
    Jets, Drugs, and Paper
    Sex, sport cars and vacations


    Written by: Columbus Tower Smith, Daniel Tannenbaum, Shante Franklin
    Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group

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